


Azkaban

by klained



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Non-Consensual, Rape, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 13:46:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klained/pseuds/klained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prison isn't easy... especially for a Malfoy (was written before Deathly Hallows came out)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Azkaban

Grey and black. That is all his world consisted of now: grey and black. The vibrancy and opulence of his life was gone. _That insolent brat will pay._ Days are not marked by the rise and fall of the sun, but by the sleeping and the waking. _The arrogant, half-blooded scum will pay with his life._ Weeks, months are marked by pain, hurt, suffering. The Dementors are more appealing every day compared to the torture the Ministry cooked up. _Who ever heard of anything as absurd as Slytherins imprisoning Slytherins?_ He is safe, though. Hell hath no fury like the Dark Lord scorned. He shuddered, glad the Aurors got him before He did. The Dark Lord is not nearly as merciful as the Ministry. And He does _not_ take failure well.

A door down the long hallway clanged open. He listened carefully. Three men were coming: two booted and marching, one barefoot and almost… _Is that filth_ skipping? Days are marked by those footsteps, and the degradation they bring. The slow, painful humiliation… _The Potter brat will die._

He sat motionless in the corner as his cell door flew open with a crash. In the doorway stood two of his captors… and that filth unworthy of the title “Death Eater.” He leaned against the wall, back ramrod straight. Malfoys do not shudder.

“This doesn’t have to happen, Malfoy,” one of his captors growled. “You know where You-Know-Who is hiding. Tell us where he is, and we’ll stop this. We can protect you, Lucius.”

“Yes, yes, Lucius,” the one in the middle cackled. “Tell them and everything will be all better!” A maniacal laugh filled the tiny chamber.

_How fitting that Rodolphus would be would be Lestrange_ , Lucius mused. _The Strange one._

Taking his silence for refusal to cooperate, the guards shoved Rodolphus into Lucius’s cell. The two men stared at each other as the door slammed. The wicked grin on Rodolphus’s face never once wavered. Lucius struggled to keep his face impassive.

“The Ministry of Nincompoops want you to tell them where the Dark Lord is,” Rodolphus taunted. He stepped forward like a beast stalking its prey. iAnd I’m his prey. “Why don’t you be a good little boy and tell them. Then you can get your aristocratic arse out of here. Just remember Death Eaters remember. Condemn any of us to save your own sorry arse and we will kill you.”

By this time he was standing before Lucius. The blonde recoiled, all pretense gone.

“Oh, you are a sorry one,” Rodolphus laughed.

Malfoy let out a weak “go to Hell” from behind his knees.

“Haven’t you noticed, Malfoy? I’m already there. When I’m not serving by my Lord’s side, I _am_ in Hell.” He grabbed Lucius by his long hair and pulled. “Perhaps you need a reminder of what Hell can be like?” A well-aimed kick landed between Lucius’s legs. The pain caused him to slump lower on the wall, against the pull on his hair. “Did you think you were so clever to get away all those years ago?” A kick in the side this time. “I take great joy in knowing you are at last suffering the same way we did for so long.”

In one swift movement, he pulled the other man to his feet and turned his face to the wall. One arm was used to push shoulders and arms into the hard, rough stone wall. The opposite hand chained his captive’s hand into a manacle above their heads. Once the blonde’s arm was shackled, Lestrange stepped back to admire his handiwork. Knowing what was to come, Malfoy fought against the chain holding him to no avail. The metalwork held fast. He quickly gave up. _What is the use? This will continue and go on and has been._ He slumped against the wall, waiting.

A whoosh and sharp crack were very quickly followed by stinging across his back. _How the bloody hell did that bastard get a whip?_ Several more painful whips passed before the wielder spoke again.

“Like my new toy?” Crack! “The Ministry of Morons gave it to me.” Crack! “They thought it would break you.” Crack! “They want you to tell them where the Dark Lord is.” Crack! “If you tell them, Malfoy, the Death Eaters will find you and kill you!” Crack! “No,” crack, “matter,” crack, “how,” crack, “well,” crack, “they,” crack, “hide you!”

With another crack, the whip wrapped around Lucius’s throat. Rodolphus pulled the whip. Lucius’s head snapped back as his torturer snarled “I am going to break you.”

A quick flick of the wrist rid Lucius of his tattered and torn prison clothes. He stood facing the wall, naked and pale, back a brilliant shade of red. Fresh blood dripped over old marks, scars had opened and were prohibited from healing. Rodolphus let go of the whip, letting the loose end swing by Lucius’s neck. Lucius flinched as the whip rubbed against the wounds. Fired coursed through his body. An ice-cold hand rested in the middle of his back and he flinched again. This was always the worst.

The manacle on his arm was released and Lucius weakly dropped to the floor. The cold, naked – _when did that happen?_ – weight of Rodolphus quickly followed. He braced his whole body, willing the other man not to repeat what he did every other time. His hopes were useless. A gasp escaped Lucius’s lips as Rodolphus slammed himself in, hard, dry, and fast. Lucius tried to force the other out of his body, but the tightening of his anus only pulled the dick in further. Rodolphus began to thrust into Lucius’s body, slamming, pulsing, pushing, forcing. The weak body beneath him began to whimper, all pretence of decorum gone. Blood began to seep from the entrance, skin broken by his force.

The sight of the trickles of blood coming from that aristocratic arse set Rodolphus over the edge and with a grunt he came. The two bodies remained for a time, one supporting the other. At last, much to a tired Lucius’s relief, Rodolphus peeled himself from the dried blood and sweat and rose to dress. The blonde collapsed, his over heated body splayed across the cold stone floor, sticky come leaking from his rear. He listed to the tapping on the door, his cell being opened to let out his fellow captive, his captor.

“Give us the information we want, Malfoy,” one of the guards was saying. “This doesn’t have to keep happening.”

“I’ll never tell you.”

“I thought I’d let you know. Dumbledore was killed last night. Your son and Snape are wanted for his murder. Tell us what we want to know and your son will be pardoned.”

_Dumbledore? Dead? Draco and Severus…?_ Taking silence for refusal, the guards left, Rodolphus in tow.

_Draco is in trouble._ His cell got darker. _I can’t help him._ His world got smaller. _I’m stuck here. Malfoys don’t cry._ He surrendered his right to the title. The gray and black walls did not pity him.


End file.
